


The People's Playground

by musketrois (B_kate)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 20th Century, Alternate Universe - America, Alternate Universe - Amusement Park, Alternate Universe - Historical, Boys Kissing, Gambling, Happy Ending, Historical, Horse Racing, M/M, New York City, Non-Graphic Violence, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 08:24:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11802213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_kate/pseuds/musketrois
Summary: It is 1900 in New York City, and Harry Styles has recently immigrated to America from England. His sister encourages him to take a day off from his life as a factory worker and Harry decides to take a trip to the infamous Coney Island where he literally runs into Louis Tomlinson. It looks like Coney Island will be more than Harry bargained for.





	The People's Playground

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by Michael Immerso’s book, Coney Island: The People’s Playground, as well as my own studies of immigrant life in New York City in the early twentieth century. I’ve used creative license with the layout of Coney Island as well as how gambling worked in 1900. Of course, I have taken some liberties with how the boys live (especially factory and tenement conditions), but keep in mind that living and working conditions across the nation were horrible for during this time.
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you to [hogwartsbaby](https://hogwartsbaby.tumblr.com/) and [three-drink-amy](http://three-drink-amy.tumblr.com/) for helping me edit this work. I would have never posted this without people letting me know my writing is worth reading!
> 
> [fic tumblr post](http://musketrois.tumblr.com/post/164179923892)

"Those “huddled masses” caught sight of Coney’s fretted towers before they ever glimpsed Bartholdi’s Liberty. To Coney Island they came, and Coney gave them a portion of the freedom they yearned for."

-

It was the turn of the century and most of the world was celebrating. Harry Styles wasn’t one of them.

The seventeen-year-old found himself on a grimy New York City-bound boat with his older sister Gemma while they mourned the loss of their parents. The _Beatrice_ was surrounded by fog as it slowly sliced through the waters of the Atlantic. Mist fell gently on Harry’s face as he contemplated what had led him to his current situation.

_Harry sat in the corner of a room lit with a single candles flame. It had been a week since his parents had both died in a carriage accident on their way to a local theater in their native Cheshire, England._

_Today, Harry and Gemma had laid them in their final resting places. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that they were gone. Now what were they supposed to do?_

_The family had been struggling financially for the last few years, and now Harry and his sister were practically penniless with no farm-related skills to offer within their farming community._

_Harry came out of his thoughts when Gemma gently nudged him, “I’ve been thinking.”_

_“About what?” he asked as he looked into her tired eyes._

_“Maybe we should go to America,” she almost whispered._

_Harry could feel his face immediately scrunch in distaste at the thought of leaving England._

_“Think about it before your face sticks like that, please. Anyone can get a job in New York without having prior experience. They say it’s the land of opportunity, and we’re running out of options here.”_

_As much as he hated the thought of abandoning the only place he had known as home, Harry knew she was right. Without any surviving family in England to help them on their feet, America was their last hope of building a comfortable life._

_“Okay.” He nodded at his sister before enveloping her in a strong embrace._

As the deck became more crowded with passengers hoping to catch their first glimpse of America, Harry knew one thing for certain. 1900 promised to be a year of uncertainty.

The crowd saw tall silhouettes appear out of the fog, but no one seemed to know what they were. Harry had always heard stories about seeing the wonder of the Statue of Liberty, but the piers and ornately styled buildings he saw were not that. It was Harry’s first indication that America was not at all what it seemed.

-

On January 1, 1900, Harry and Gemma finished their journey at Ellis Island. They hurried through the health and screening checkpoints while witnessing the terrible sight of other immigrant families being turned away from America.

It seemed that native English speakers were favored in this new land.

The worst part of the screening was when a button hook was used on each of his eyes to check for Trachoma. An attendant used a chalk tag to indicate that Harry had cleared the health inspection. With stinging eyelids, Harry made his way to a crowded room of people waiting to be called for the ferry to the mainland.

Many people were also turned back at the mainland, because they had no place to stay, and the government didn’t want foreigners roaming the street with nothing to their name. The siblings were also prepared for this part of their journey. Before setting sail, Gemma had used an old New York newspaper to contact listed borders. They had received one reply, and had quickly accepted a room at the boarding house. Gemma confidently showed an officer at the gate the address they were headed to. Once he indicated that they were free to leave, the siblings grabbed their meager belongings and started to look for their new home.

Harry knew he was lucky.

The pair had been able to use the last of the money from their parents to buy their tickets to America. Now, all they had left was part of their first rent payment.

The boarding house they had been able to secure a room at was off Fourteenth Street in the east side of the city.

After walking up a set of cement steps and knocking on the front door, they were greeted by an older woman who introduced herself as Ethel, the owner of the building.

Ethel led them up a pair of stairs to their room on the second floor. It was a single room with twin beds. The bathroom was communal, a few doors down the hall. They would be sharing it with four other tenants. 

Their landlady kindly explained the rules of her establishment before patting each sibling on the cheek and leaving them to unpack.

Harry put his clothes in a chest at the end of the small bed and then sat on his bed with a sigh. New York would never replace England, but Harry had to try and make something of his new life.

-

May 1900

Harry readied himself for another day of work. It had been five months since he arrived in America, and he had learned a lot about the country.

The most prevalent one was that almost all immigrants started out in sweatshops or factories, regardless of skill set or age. If they saved enough money, one day they may be able to open their own business or own a home, but everyone starts on the bottom rung of the ladder. Monthly rent at his boarding house was $5. Harry made $6 a week while Gemma made $3. A total of $32 a month. This of course was only if they were lucky and their bosses didn’t find fault in their work. One remarkable difference between America and the European countries was that in Europe all of their food was grown in a garden outside their house. In America, food was bought almost-daily from shops and street vendors. They each paid a dollar a week for dinner at their boarding house. Breakfast and lunch was bought each day on the street. It usually consisted of bread and a piece of fruit. Sometimes Harry guiltily splurged on an apple turnover for lunch. The cost added up quickly. 

Harry had celebrated his eighteenth birthday in February, but he was still growing. Although he worked making cheap clothes for Americans, he could hardly afford a new set of pants. Because of this, his bare ankles showed where his pants had become too short on him.

As soon as the work bell sounded, Harry and tables full of other young boys across the shop floor began laying women’s clothing patterns across pre-laid rolls of thin fabric. They then used their short cutting knives to skillfully cut each piece out. They were able to cut almost one hundred pieces at a time. Once they were done, each piece went into the appropriate bin where they would later be carried to the room in which women workers spent their workdays tirelessly sewing them together.

It wasn't the job he was given when he arrived looking for a job at the shop. Harry’s first job was to press and pack garments for shipping. He made two dollars a week.

Pressing was back breaking work. Finished garments were pressed between a twenty-five-pound iron before they were then packed in crates and taken by boys to a shipment cart waiting on the street. The horse cart then took the finished garments to the appropriate shop for ladies to purchase.

When a cutter didn't show up for work one day, and the boss was looking for a new employee, Harry pretended he knew what he was doing to secure the job.

Niall and Liam had already been working for a time, and were nice enough to show Harry the ropes so he didn't cost the boss money and himself a decent paying job. Clothes had to be carefully cut; if any fabric was wasted, it added up to many yards per 100 patterns cut. This in turns led to dollars of unusable fabric. However, it turned out that Harry was actually pretty skilled with a cutting knife.

Despite having worked at the shop for almost five months, Harry still fought the urge to talk to those around him.

Workers could be fined for talking, and it was a lesson that Harry had trouble learning. He was the type of person that craved human contact. Talking was essential for him to make it through his days, but that need was stifled at work.

As soon as the lunch bell rang, he knew he would spend his thirty minutes talking with Liam and Niall, who had become his friends. Once he made it home from work, all of his suppressed words would probably continue their flow with Gemma, so long as they were not too tired to speak.

Harry’s hands were cramping by the time work finally stopped for the day, and he quickly made his way out of the building with everyone else. The street was flooded with a myriad of languages as the city’s workers made their way home to their shabby tenement buildings.

Niall accompanied Harry home that day, because he lived a block away in an Irish neighbourhood. The young men always spent the ten-minute walk discussing their lives. Harry’s only friends, if you could call them that, were the people he worked with.

Niall was more excited than usual, because he had plans to go to Coney Island with his family on Sunday, their one day off. Harry had heard others talk about their trips to the island East of the city, but never with the same enthusiasm Niall had. Sure, they described how wondrous the amusement parks were, but none of them had the same flare Niall did.

“You need to actually see the lights everywhere, Harry! My descriptions don’t do them justice.”

Harry smiled as Niall continued on, “They have bathing pavilions and parks full of machines that take you around a track! Have I mentioned the food?”

“Niall, I think I’ve heard more about the merits of hot dogs than I have about your family,” Harry laughed.

“Don’t speak ill of that glorious invention! You need to go before the season ends! I promise it is well worth some of your money.”

“Maybe one day, Ni. But you know what my priorities are.”

Niall slung an understanding arm around Harry and gave him an affectionate squeeze. Despite Harry’s previous statement, he still asked Harry if he wanted to accompany him to a local pub for a pint. Harry declined as he always did. He would love nothing more than to make friends and relax. As usual, he turned Niall down, because he needed to save all the money he could.

-

Dinner was served by Ethel each night at 8 sharp. Even that late was pushing it for her strict schedule, but she knew most of her boarders were factory workers that were not free to go home until 7 or later. For Harry, it was always a dismal affair. Meat was a luxury they paid extra for when it struck Ethel’s fancy to cook it.

Gemma sat next to him at the rickety wooden table that served all ten boarders. Harry suppressed a sigh as he looked at the watered down tea and bowl of vegetable soup in front of him. When he saw Gemma eagerly tear apart the roll they each received with their dinner, Harry quickly reminded himself to be grateful for what he had. 

Yes, they had a roof over their head and work, but that did not mean they did not have their share of problems. As a man, Harry had it easier than Gemma. Her first job in America was scrubbing floors for wealthy housewives in the upper part of the city. Her hands quickly became chapped and red, and her knees could no longer handle the work. Now, her back was suffering as she spent each day bent over a sewing machine putting shirtwaists together. Simply because he was a man and had somehow secured a job that many viewed as one of the toughest in the garment industry, his sister was paid half of what he made.

Harry dreamed of opening his own bakery in the city. Gemma didn’t know about this, because Harry would hate to see her working herself to death to make his dream a reality.

Gemma had made many friends at work, and Harry encouraged her to go to theaters. After all, the bakery is his dream and she deserved a break from the dreariness of the factory. He was the one who needed to save as much money as possible so he could so that one day Gemma could live comfortably, far away from the East Side.

They were sitting in their small beds after dinner when she surprised him with her own suggestion.

“Harry…”

“Yeah, Gem?”

“I know you want to save as much money as we can so we can stop working in factories, but that doesn’t mean we both can’t have some fun along the way. I want you to use an off day to do something for yourself for once.”

“G-” Harry started, but was immediately cut off.

“You are not saying no to me this time,” she said while pointing a threatening finger in his direction.

With a sigh, Harry gave in. “You’re right. I’ll figure out a way to do something not work-related one day.”

Gemma gave him a triumphant smirk before climbing under the covers and into her bed.

Harry rolled over and wrapped his thin blanket around his body. Maybe his sister was right. Harry had been feeling trapped in the monotony of his life.

He knew just the place to go to feel better.

-

Harry woke up on a Sunday morning partway through June feeling excited for the first time since the death of his parents.

Today, he was finally doing as Gemma suggested and taking a day for himself. A relaxing day at Coney Island awaited him. He had saved all his leftover money from the last month and instead of putting it away for his dream, he kept it for his Coney Island adventure.

After getting ready and saying goodbye to a still-sleeping Gemma, Harry stepped onto the street and began the short walk to the electric tram that carried people around the city.

Once he located the tram stop, he allowed himself to start his free day off right with a full breakfast at a cafe next door. The inside of the shop was dark green and there were shabby tables throughout.

Harry sat at a table and was quickly served. The coffee was rich and he inhaled the eggs and toast as if they were his last meal.

With a contented sigh, he opened the newspaper he’d purchased on the street. Growing up, Harry’s parents had made sure he and Gemma were literate. He loved reading, but Harry’s factory life had given him precious few moments for it.

Although he could read what the paper said, he did not fully comprehend its meaning. Being new to America meant he was clueless when it came to America’s geography and the inner workings of the New York elite that were written about. The paper gave him a chance to work his mind, but by the time he closed it, all he could remember was that a subway was being built between the city and Brooklyn.

Harry walked back to the stop and arrived almost exactly when the tram did. In England, they had travelled by carriage. In New York, he had no need to take the tram to work. He lived close enough to the factory to walk there and back, but he had heard others complain about the cost of weekly transportation from their houses farther away.

It was nerve wracking-paying his nickel, receiving his ticket, and then jumping onto the already packed vehicle. He was quickly surrounded by other citizens making their way to Coney Island.

Although he was sandwiched between people for the whole journey, Harry still enjoyed the sensation of breathing in the salty smell of the Atlantic Ocean as they neared the station on the west side of the island.

When Harry disembarked and began walking east he was overwhelmed by Coney Island and all it contained. Niall’s description did not prepare Harry for what confronted him.

Brightly painted signs advertised all manner of excitements: there were carousels, palm readers, and trinket shops as far as he could see. On his right, Harry saw the famous bathing pavilions where flocks of tourists donned their bathing suits to bask in the healing ocean water. Almost all of the women present carried parasols that complimented their long skirts and intricate shirtwaists. Harry couldn’t help wondering if he had helped cut any of them.

Now that he was actually on Coney Island, Harry recognized the tall buildings around him. They were the same ones the passengers on the ship had wondered over while entering American waters. Up close, Harry could see the intricate designs that covered their white façades. They were dotted by light bulbs, which were also strung in the air from building to building. Harry imagined they would be quite the sight once the sun set.

As for sounds, there was a roar of grinding gears as machines propelled carts with people in them around tracks shaped into hills. It was barely noon, but the boardwalk was packed with people all laughing and talking as they walked along. Seagulls screamed overhead as they rode the air currents.

The smells, however, were definitely the most overwhelming part of his experience. Ever since he had left the confines of the city, Harry could smell salt on the air and feel the dampness of the ocean in his curly hair. Now it mingled with the scent of people sweating in the noonday sun. Every few feet, Harry was also hit with the overwhelming stench of garbage baking in the sun. The only thing that saved the smells of Coney Island was the scent of food wafting through the air.

Now all Harry wanted was to taste it. He passed several hotdog stands, smelling the roasting meat. Candy shops made his mouth water for fudge and the caramel apples displayed in the windows had his wanting a sticky bite. He could imagine the cool, sweet taste of root beer on his tongue and how cotton candy would dissolve in his mouth.

Harry was so bombarded with all the sensations that he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going. Suddenly, he ran into someone solid, startling him from his out of body experience.

When Harry pulled himself together, he saw that he had knocked that someone to the ground. His air left him in a long breath as he took in the gorgeous sight before him.

Bright blue eyes looked into his green with shock. Harry quickly looked from the stranger’s caramel locks, to the tan skin of his forearms, exposed by the rolled up sleeves of a white button up. Harry felt his adam's apple bob as he gulped air back into his lungs.

“Oops,” was all he was able to utter when confronted with the angel at his feet.

“Hi…” the man trailed off uncertainly, beginning to pull himself off the dirty sidewalk.  
Harry’s face flushed and he quickly reached out a hand, “I am so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going, because there’s so much to see here and…” Harry trailed off as the angel chuckled at his babbling.

“I gather this is your first time visiting?”

The man’s voice was soft and had a high note to it that made Harry’s insides curl with fondness. He was looking at Harry from beneath long eyelashes that fluttered against his cheeks when he blinked. All Harry could do was nod his head dumbly in response to the question, overwhelmed by how beautiful the man, no, the angel was.

The angel wiped his pants off and then offered a hand to Harry, “I’m Louis Tomlinson. Welcome to Coney Island, greenie.”

Harry could feel his eyebrows scrunch in displeasure as he shook the offered hand, “Harry Styles, and it’s not very nice to call people greenhorn.”

“Take it easy, Harry. I only meant that you’re new to the Island, not the country.”

“Oh,” Harry said in understanding.

He was used to Americans insulting him for being a new immigrant. Somehow though when Louis said it Harry just felt endeared instead of insulted.

“I’m sorry for running into you. I’ll just be on my way...” Harry apologized again.

“You don’t have to run away so soon! Do I seem like that bad of a person?” Louis asked, laughing and looking at Harry in reproach.

“Well, no,” Harry replied dumbly.

“You hungry? You could make up for knocking me on my ass by eating at my family’s restaurant.”

Harry couldn’t tell, but it looked like the gleam in Louis’ eyes was hopeful. And anyway, how could he say no to an angel?

“If you insist,” Harry smiled and his stomach growled loudly at the thought of food.

With that, Louis grabbed his wrist and began dragging him from the sidewalk corner they were at and on down the street.

They stopped outside a two-story brick building with large, glass windows across the front. It had a hand-painted, brown sign over the front door that read “Deakin’s Seafood: The Best Shrimp on Coney.” A small sign hung underneath it advertising “high-quality clothing made by a seasoned seamstress.” 

Louis yanked open the front door and flung his free arm out in grand gesture. Harry looked between the gorgeous man at the door and the dark entrance of his restaurant. Had he really followed a complete stranger to an unknown building on an island he had never been on?

It defied all common sense but, this was supposed to be a day for Harry to be free and spontaneous. Despite all of his doubts, Harry took a deep breath and entered the dimly lit shop.

-

Once Harry had fully entered Deakin’s Seafood, he was instantly greeted by loud, female voices welcoming him to the restaurant.

The bell on the door jingled as Louis slammed the door shut.

“Welcome to our humble establishment. Let me lead you to your seat, kind sir,” Louis said in an exaggeratedly posh accent as he led Harry to a table by the front window.

Harry slid into the booth and took the paper menu Louis offered him.

“Can I get you something to drink? We have water, tea, lemonade…” Louis asked, looking at Harry expectantly.

“Some water would be great. Thank you, Louis,” Harry answered shyly.

Louis gave Harry a wink and a wide smile before heading to the counter at the front of the room and disappearing behind a swinging door that must lead to the kitchen. Harry would be lying if he said he did not appreciate the view of Louis’ black pants pulled tight against his backside as he walked.

Harry looked out at the sidewalk where people were bustling by as he waited for Louis to return. He laughed as a boy with an ice cream delightedly licked around his messy face to try to get anything he had missed.

A glass of water was plopped in front of Harry before Louis slid into the booth seat across from him.

“I know I gave you a menu, but I went ahead and ordered some food for you. Hope you don’t mind.”

Harry could feel his dimples appear at Louis’ tone of voice. It was obvious he didn’t care whether Harry minded or not he was going to do what he wanted. And if what Louis wanted was to feed Harry good food, well, Harry wasn’t going to say no.

“So, Curly, tell me what leads you to the fine island called Coney.”

When Louis saw Harry’s smile turn into a frown, he quickly changed his course.

“Okay, I’ll go first.”

“I was actually born in Brooklyn. My alcoholic father left soon after I was born, so my mom took care of me by spending her time sewing day and night.”

“When I was six, my mother married the love of her life, Dan, and with him came my five sisters and brother. Soon after they married, Dan moved my mom and me out here to his restaurant. Now I am twenty years old and make my living by helping my parents and sometimes selling tickets at the theme parks. In the off-season, I help my mother sew clothes for rich clients who can afford custom clothing. At least rent is free,” he finished with a shrug.

“I understand if you don’t want to tell me anything. We have only known each other for about twenty minutes.”

Louis had told his story so matter of factly that Harry actually felt safe opening up to him with his own life struggles. Harry decided to keep his story short and simple.

“Well, I moved here five months ago after my parents died. I’ve been working in a clothing factory since I got here with my older sister. She suggested I take a day off to get away from work and this is where I decided to come.”

After he was finished, Louis put a comforting hand on one of the arms Harry had folded on the table.

“I’m sorry you’ve had to go through all of this in such a short amount of time. I’ve heard stories from other visitors about working in New York factories. If there’s only one thing I know for sure about life, it’s that Coney Island will take your mind off all of your problems.”

Before Harry could reply, Louis quickly removed his hand from Harry’s arm as they were interrupted by two plates of steaming food being set on their table.

“Louis, I thought you were supposed to be getting people to come inside, not eating with them,” a gorgeous middle-aged woman said in a disapproving tone. 

“Mom. this is Harry,” Louis said gesturing to him.

“He ran me over on the sidewalk, so I decided to bring his clueless self here for lunch. It’s not my fault he distracted me from my job.”

Louis’ mother tsked at him before turning her gaze to Harry, “It’s nice to meet you Harry. Tell Louis to shoo if he’s bothering you. I promise it won’t offend him.”

Harry laughed at Louis’ outraged squawk.

“Thank you, ma’am. Louis has been a very gracious host.”

“Please, call me Jay. It makes me feel like a stuckup, Southern lady when you young men call me ma'am,” Jay’s eyes crinkled in the corners like her son’s did as she smiled and shook Harry’s offered hand. 

“I have some sewing I need to finish up today. Louis, please make sure your sisters behave themselves while I work.”

Louis gave Jay a “Yes, mom” with a nod, before she briskly walked away.

Now that they were alone, Harry looked down at the plate in front of him. It was loaded with russet potatoes, shrimp, and a golden biscuit.

The meal he had that morning was good, but it had nothing on the feast in front of him. He tasted lots of butter and it was mixed with seasoning he had never tasted before. Harry let out an involuntary moan as he bit into one of the shrimp.

Louis’ eyes widened at Harry’s reaction and Harry’s face turned red as he tried not to further embarrass himself.

“Is it good?” Louis asked.

Harry finished chewing before replying, “This is the best food I have ever had.”

“Seriously?” Louis said with a raised eyebrow.

“In England, we ate a lot of vegetables and chicken. The only food in America I can afford is porridge and sometimes fresh fruit.”

“Wow. You do look a bit thin. I’ve heard a good, American diet consists of plenty of meat and vegetables.”

It was at this point that Harry started becoming stressed about the money he had been spending. Yes, he wanted to enjoy his day, but there was no way he could afford a seafood meal.

It seemed Louis recognized the look on his face, because he began speaking fast, “Don’t worry about paying. I’m the one that forced you in here.”

“I couldn’t possibly allow you to give me all of this for free.”

“Harry, my family can afford to give away one free meal. Don’t worry about it.”

Like most immigrants, Harry was extremely prideful. He did not ask for handouts, and found it almost impossible to accept charity from others.

“You really don’t need to give me a free meal. I can pay for it, no problem.”

Louis’ voice suddenly took on an authoritative tone; which Harry thought was adorable as it came off more cute than harsh.

“Harry Styles, you are going to accept the meal my family has presented to you, and you’re going to do it graciously with no complaints. Accept when someone is trying to be nice instead of automatically thinking they pity you.”

“I’m simply trying to show you some Coney Island hospitality,” Louis finished by huffing a breath that ruffled his feathery bangs.

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” Harry said trying to match Louis’ tone.

From underneath the table, Harry felt a kick to his left shin as Louis rolled his eyes.

Harry finished his meal and silently stared across the table at Louis as the man finished his own meal more slowly. Louis looked almost fidgety as he finished eating, but it was a surprisingly comfortable silence.

Once he was finished, he looked up at Harry and began speaking, “Look, this is probably going to be awkward and you can completely forget I said anything if you don’t like what I’m about to say. I would love to show you around the Island if you want to know all the places you should go. Besides, a person as innocent looking as you are is bound to get scammed,” Louis finished with a smirk.

Louis was completely wrong about his offer making things awkward, all Harry wanted was to spend more time with him.

“Is it okay if you leave your restaurant to lead me around?” Harry teased.

A smile broke out across Louis’ face as he slid from the booth and picked up their plates.

“You will soon learn that I am the king of getting out of responsibilities.”

Harry dutifully followed Louis to the front of the shop and waited by the front door while Louis went to make his excuses and ensure that his younger siblings behaved themselves in his sudden absence.

Together they pushed outside into the sunlight. Coney Island and its wonders awaited them.

-

Louis shaded his eyes and looked around.

“Is there a certain place you want to start, or should I just take you where I want to go?” he asked.

Although Harry had heard about everything there was to do, the fact that he was completely overwhelmed when he arrived persuaded Harry to give Louis the reigns for their adventure.

“Lead the way. You live here, after all.”

Harry saw a mischievous look cross Louis’ face as he began pulling Harry by the elbow down the street.

“Are you not going to tell me where we’re going?”

“No, Curly. Surprises are the best part of life, and you’re about to see Coney’s greatest. I can promise we’re about to do something you’ve never done before.”

Louis led them to the entrance of what Harry learned Americans called an amusement park.

The entrance contained several arches that took visitors to a ticket counter. Over these arches was written, “George C. Tilyou’s Steeplechase Park.”

They arrived at the ticket counter and Harry was ready to protest if Louis tried paying the nickel it took to get inside the park. He was surprised when the young man at the booth waved the two of them through without dropping the bored look on his face.

Once they were out of earshot of the booth, Harry turned to Louis, “Did we get in for free, or do they take our money elsewhere?”

Louis let out a boisterous laugh, “Joe let us in for free. We’ve worked together before. Most of us let each other cut corners here and there, because we know how expensive Coney can be even when we live here.”

The pair continued walking towards a building labeled Pavilion of Fun. It seemed Louis knew where they were going, so Harry took the time to stare at what was around him. The amusement park was its own little city, and Harry was amazed that so many things were crammed inside of it. It felt like he was no longer on Coney Island. His troubles didn’t exist in this world.

Louis stopped without Harry noticing, and he ran straight into the man’s back with an oomph.

Thankfully, Louis only raised an eyebrow at him instead of commenting.

“Here’s our first ride of the day. It’s called the Steeplechase, and you’re gonna love it!”

It was Harry’s turn to raise an eyebrow. The contraption was made of mechanical horses that “rode” down metal tracks. Harry watched as the people ahead of him in line mounted their horse and took off with what he thought was alarming speed.

“Is this safe?’ Harry questioned.

“Probably not.” Louis deadpanned.

Harry was about to protest, but he was forced to follow Louis to the row of horses.

The people around them hopped on their steads without a second thought while Harry hesitated, hovering near his with Louis patiently waiting.

“Come on, Haz. I promise it’s fun. Trust me, yeah?”

The attendant tapped his foot impatiently while Harry debated the merits of trusting Louis. Finally, he gave Louis a small smile and leapt onto the fake horse.

Louis gave a whoop of delight and jumped on his own seat.

Harry let out a shriek as the attendant let go of the bar keeping them in place and the pair instantly flew down a steep hill. He was fairly sure he left his stomach back at the starting gate.

He tightly held onto the reigns of the horse as it flew around the racetrack. Louis was wildly laughing on the track beside Harry. Seeing Louis’ joy is what finally put Harry at ease.

A smile formed on his face as the horses coasted along over a series of hills before coming to a rest at another gate. Here, an attendant helped everyone off their horses before waiting for the next batch of riders.

Harry felt breathless. He had never ridden on something so fast and small. Who thought of creating such a contraption for people to enjoy?

“What do you think?”

At Louis’ voice, Harry turned in giddy excitement.

“That was so much fun! Can we go again?”

Louis replied with a breathy giggle, “I knew you’d love it! Maybe once we’re done with some other rides we can come back. There’s so much you haven’t seen yet.”

Harry pouted, silently following Louis across the park to their next destination.

The horses had fascinated him, but they were shameful compared to what was in front of him. Their next ride was what they called the Ferris Wheel. Harry had read about the invention at the 1893 Chicago World’s Fair, and he couldn’t believe he was about to go on one.

This time, Louis followed Harry as he eagerly marked their place in the long line.

“What happened to the scaredy-cat I encountered at the horse track?”

“He was worried about an open-air, flimsy seat on a rail that had no breaks. A Ferris Wheel is completely different. It has enclosed seats and have been around for almost twenty years!” Harry said in defensively.

“Fine, fine. I’m not judging you for it. I’ve seen people turn around before riding on several occasion.”

As they waited for their turn to board they lapsed into a comfortable silence. It was broken every once in awhile by a random question or the opportunity to comment on another ride goer doing something strange.

It was finally their turn to board one of the gondolas and Harry was giddy with excitement.

The Ferris Wheel was smaller than the original ride at the World’s Fair. It carried two passengers per cart around for a few minutes, instead of the twenty minutes it took the original ride to make one rotation.

They soon reached the top of the wheel. Harry looked across the island and he smiled as he felt the warmth of Louis pressed against him.

“If this was the last view I ever saw, I think I could die happy.” Harry confided.

Louis snuggled closer into his side, “I agree, and I’ve never gone ten miles outside of Coney and the City.”

The illusion was broken when they were back on the ground, but Harry couldn’t wipe the smile off his face the rest of their stay at Steeplechase.

Near the Pavilion of Fun, Harry purchased them a cotton candy to share. It was Harry’s first time having one, and he savored the sugar melting on his tongue.

They made a circuit around the park and Harry was able to ride his favorite rides, the Ferris Wheel and Log flume, again before they exited the park.

-

As the sun set around them, they walked along the boardwalk, looking across the crowded beaches. When Harry mentioned he was getting hungry, they walked to a stand advertising “Nate’s Hot Dogs.”

It was a piece of meat that sat inside a bread roll that was specifically cut. It was topped off with condiments called ketchup and mustard. Harry could see why Niall liked the food, but he could never be as in love with it as the Irish lad seemed to be.

“Have you ever seen fireworks?” Louis asked.

Harry shook his head no while wiping mustard from his hotdog off his face.

“You’re in for a treat then. Let’s walk down to Brighton Beach, that’s where they shoot the best ones off. Not even the toffs at Manhattan Beach can beat them.”

Louis lead Harry to the beach, taking him to one of the less crowded piers. He dragged Harry down to sit beside him and they both swung their legs back and forth over the ocean as the sun continued to sink below the horizon.

“You mentioned Manhattan Beach. What do you have against it?

Louis blew a raspberry, “Manhattan Beach is for all of the rich folks. They have a fancy hotel where they have private grounds and serve only the finest foods. There’s also a famous horse track on the premises.”

“That doesn’t sound bad.”

Louis gave a harsh laugh at Harry’s innocence, “When I said for the rich, I meant it literally. They have Pinkerton agents that stand guard to ensure no unwanted people make it inside.”

“What are Pinkerton agents?”

“It’s a private detective firm. Companies hire bodyguards from them to beat up on anyone that defies their strict orders.”

Louis hushed Harry’s next question as the first Brighton firework went off. Harry’s mouth dropped open in an o as a rainbow of colors exploded in the air over the beach. Some of them formed different shapes and the whole show went off to the song “Strike up the Band.”

Harry was breathless from the joy at the sight of the pyrotechnics. He turned his head to the right and saw Louis staring at him. The breeze gently brought the scent of gunpowder and the sound of the explosions to them.

“Do I have something on my face?” Harry asked when Louis continued to stare.

“No, I’m only admiring the view.”

An embarrassed blush crept across Harry’s face and he was glad the waning light was to dim for Louis to see it.

Harry had known for a long time that he didn’t have feelings for girls, and spending a day with Louis, a gorgeous lad and lovely person to boot, had almost sent him into a tailspin.

Was Louis the same as Harry, or was he just imagining the look in Louis’ eyes?

Panic started creeping up Harry’s throat and he pushed himself to his feet to escape Louis’ scrutiny.

Louis cleared his throat and followed suit, “It’s getting late. We should get you back to the station before the last tram leaves.

-

Despite the awkward moment on the pier, the air between them was once again relaxed and easy as they walked back to the island’s entrance.

Time seemed to speed by and suddenly they were walking up the stairs of the station.

Halfway up, Louis stopped, “I should head home before my mom sends out a search party. I’m glad you ran into me today.”

Harry had known it was coming, but having to leave Louis still hurt. Louis was the first friend he had made outside the factory. It hurt knowing he wouldn’t be able to see him often enough to become real friends, like he had with Niall.

“Thank you for showing me around today. I would have been lost in this chaos without your guidance. I mean it when I say this has been the best day I’ve had since coming to America.”

“No problem, Curly. You know where to find me if Coney ever calls you again.” Louis said, shyly shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants.

Harry gazed into Louis’ blue eyes one last time before the older man broke away and headed down the stairs. Harry sighed and forced himself up the stairs into the station. If he had stayed, he knew he would have watched Louis until he was out of sight. Even if that meant missing his ride home.

On the tram, Harry thought back over his day, how amazing it was and the wonderful time he had had with Louis. Even though he had just left the island, Harry knew he had to make his way back soon.

-

The two weeks following Harry’s first visit to Coney Island were excruciating.

The island and Louis were all Harry could think and talk about. Gemma had declared a strict no talking policy after the third day of Harry’s constant chatter.

It was officially the off season in the garment making industry and Gemma had been searching for another job. As a cutter, Harry’s job was secure and he willingly helped support Gemma so their savings stayed untouched.

Despite having to pay for both of them, Harry managed to save 15 cents, which he planned to use on his next off day to revisit Coney.

Gemma had already left to find work by the time Harry woke up. His sister thought he was going to Central Park for the day, so Harry was free from Gemma teasing him about running back to Louis. Harry would have fought back and told her he wanted to explore more of the island, but that would have only been half the truth.

Once he was ready for the day, Harry excitedly boarded the tram to Coney.

Harry exited the tram and forced himself to leisurely stroll along the boardwalk instead of sprinting to Louis’ restaurant like he wanted to.

His heartbeat picked up in excitement when he saw the restaurant sign ahead of him.

Before he could rethink his plan, he walked through the door.

“Hello?” he timidly called out to the empty room.

Upon hearing his voice, Jay walked from the kitchen to greet her customer. Jay’s eye lit up as soon as she recognized that it was Harry awkwardly standing at the threshold.

“Harry! It’s wonderful to see you again so soon!”

Harry had only met the woman once, three weeks ago, but she instantly put her arms around him in a warm embrace.

It had been a long time since he had felt loving arms around him. Gemma and Harry were close and shared their affection through hugs and playful fights, but this was different. It was a hug only a mom could provide.

Harry patted Jay on the back, unsure of what the standard protocol for the situation was.

“Here, let me show you a seat. I’m sure your trip from the city has left you famished,” she said as she tugged Harry towards a booth.

“Actually, I was looking for Louis. Is he around?”

“Oh, yes! He popped around the corner to deliver a package for me.”

“There’s no need to feed me, Jay. I’ll wait for Louis and then be on my way,” Harry protested when the woman gave him a push into the chosen booth.

“Nonsense! We have plenty of food leftover from the lunch crowd. Plus, anyone Louis chooses to constantly talk about for more than a week is worthy of a hot meal,” she smiled down at him.  
Harry’s protests being ignored was a new pattern in his life, but Jay’s overbearing hospitality was welcomed in Harry’s current hand to mouth living situation.

Jay hurried back to him with a bowl of warm chowder and a glorious biscuit on the side. Louis’ mom took him by surprise by sitting across from him and starting up a conversation.

She was attentive to all of Harry’s responses and he felt comfortable during her not so subtle grilling of his character. As a new friend, Gemma would do the same if she ever met Louis.

Louis walked through the front door and the sunny smile on his face grew when he caught sight of Harry and his mother sitting together.

“Curly! I didn’t expect to see you back so soon.”

The smile and Louis’ tone of voice instantly melted the anxiety Harry felt at coming back to Coney to capture Louis’ attention. It sounded like there was no doubt in Louis’ mind that Harry would come back to him.

Instead of sitting next to his mother, Louis pushed his bum against Harry until he had enough room to sit beside him.

“Well, I’ll leave you two alone so you can go tear up the island. Don’t be home too late, Lou.”

“Yes, mom,” Louis dutifully chirped back.

“So…, your mom is giving you the day off?” Harry innocently asked.

Louis eyelashes fluttered as he coyly replied, “She is. I think I’ll spend my afternoon at the beach. Too bad I have no one to accompany me.”

Harry elbowed the older man in the side, “You could always invite me, brat.”

Louis stuck his tongue out before using a mock posh tone of voice, “Would you like to accompany me to the beach, young Harold?”

“I would love nothing more, Lewis,” a posh sounding Harry replied back.

The two broke into laughter over their respective aristocratic American and English accents.

“A little more practice and I think we could sneak into the Manhattan Resort,” Louis chortled as he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

“How am I meant to go to the beach if I don’t have a suit?”

“Don’t worry your curly head, Harry. Dan’s suit will probably fit you if you’re willing to borrow it.”

“I’ve never been in the ocean before,” Harry responded.

“Your innocence no longer surprises me,” Louis loudly declared.

The boys fell out of the booth and Louis took him around the back of the restaurant where his house was located.

Harry peered around the front room while Louis ran up the stairs to fetch suits for them to wear on the beach.

The room was covered in unfinished clothing Jay was working on. Based on the noise coming from the second floor, Harry assumed his siblings were upstairs. Family knick knacks lined the shelves, and an intricate clock sat on the mantle over the fire. Harry was overwhelmed by the cozy feel of home Louis’ house gave off.

Louis interrupted him while he was looking at the only photo in the room. The family was lucky that they were able to get their portraits taken. The gilt frame showed the family gathered around Jay and Dan in the middle. They all held serious expressions, but Harry could see the happy glimmer in all of the large family's eyes.

“Ready to go, Harry?” Louis asked from the bottom of the stairs.

Harry snapped around to face Louis. Neither one said anything about Harry’s snooping as he pulled himself away from the fireplace.

Instead, Louis threw a suit at Harry and laughed as he clumsily caught it.

The pair left the house and made their way down the boardwalk to a bathhouse. Their silence was comfortable, and Harry appreciated that Louis could tell when Harry should not be pushed.

On the other hand, Harry had already learned to not question Louis when he got them out of paying for things on the island. Instead of leading them through the entrance to Vandeveer’s Bathhouse, Louis took them under the wood pier. They dodged around the pier’s wooden supports to avoid the security personnel looking for those who skipped the till.

When they were finally in the clear, Harry breathlessly collapsed on the sand. A shadow covered his view of the sun, and he looked up to see Louis with his hands on his slender hips.

“We have to get changed before you can lay on the beach, you lazy bum.”

Harry’s vision of Louis as an angel came back to him then. The sun created a halo around his head, and the breeze softly tousled his feathery hair. Louis’ smile was as bright as the sun, and Harry had to force himself from his position on the ground before his starring became uncomfortable.

Without looking to see if Harry followed, Louis skipped off to a changing tent on the beach. Harry entered the one next to him and quickly changed into his borrowed suit.

Harry felt uncomfortable in the scratchy material that hung loosely on his body. He was unsure of what to do with his regular clothing, but Louis took care of that for him.

The young man wore an equally atrocious suit, but he somehow made the white and blue ensemble work. Harry may have been biased. Louis took their clothing and ran them up to a locker in the pavilion where they would be safe during the day.

As soon as he returned, he began pulling Harry towards the surf that foamed against the beachfront.

The cool water was lapping around Harry’s knees before Louis stopped.

“Is now a good time to tell you I don’t know how to swim?” Harry asked Louis.

Louis pushed Harry and he about lost his footing in the surf.

“Why didn’t you say so before we snuck in here! I wouldn’t have forced you to the beach if you had told me.”

Harry placed his arm in the crook of Louis’ arm before placating him, “I wanted to get closer to the ocean. Your offer was timely, and I wouldn’t have wanted to spend my day on the island without you.”

Louis elbowed him with the arm Harry had a grip on, “Flattery will get you nowhere, Harold.”

“I think you’re wrong, because it has gotten me to spend a beautiful day on the beach with a beautiful human.”

Louis rubbed his hand on Harry’s arm as he spoke. No more words needed said about how grateful they were to have met each other.

-

The beaches were meant for bathing. It was said that fresh, salt water could cure most ailments. Harry, however, felt the beaches were better suited for sunning yourself and horsing around with friends.

Harry’s skin was warm from the sun and he could tell that it had slightly tanned his pale skin.

Louis and Harry had spent the day frolicking in the waves and napping on the beach surrounded by the crush of beach-goers.

Unlike Harry, Louis was a fantastic swimmer. He left Harry on the beach while he skillfully swam in the deeper waters.

Harry tried to keep a poker face as Louis walked back to him on their borrowed beach blanket.

The ocean water took away the looseness of Louis’ suit. Instead, the fabric clung to him in a way that clearly showed the curves of his body.

Harry averted his eyes, because he knew his poker face was not working.

Louis threw himself down next to Harry and propped his arms behind his head.

“I’ll dry off a bit and then we can change before going to get some dinner, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry replied as he watched the sky above them turn pink and blue as the sun set behind them in the West.

Harry mirrored Louis’ relaxed position beside him. The last of the day’s summer heat beat down on them while the sky continued darkening, but Harry paid it no attention. All he could think about was how he wanted to bottle up this moment with Louis and keep it safe forever.

-

Harry’s time on Coney quickly becomes a routine.

When Sunday rolled around, Harry would bid Gemma farewell and then head to the Island as early as the tram started shuttling people there. 

He had only known Louis and his family for a handful of weeks, but the familiarity between them all was not imagined.

Rather than going into the restaurant to find Louis, he now entered the Deakin house as a welcome guest. 

June was a distant memory and Harry was becoming acquainted with the syrupy hotness that July brought to New York.

The island was covered with things to do, and Louis continued to surprise Harry with new activities.

From the honky tonk dance pavilions that featured rag dancing to feeding animals at a petting zoo, Louis made sure the pair always had a good time.

Another thing Coney was famous for was its performers. Acts lined the streets advertising shows for tourists to come inside to watch shows from singers and dancers to the Freaks of Yesterday and Today.

These “freaks” and other sideshows were places Harry and Louis avoided. 

Once Harry asked Louis what these shows were and why they avoided. 

Louis, patient as ever, explained to the still fresh off the boat Harry, “The people in the shows are treated worse than the circus animals here just because they have physical traits that are different from most people.”

“The owners of those places are the worst type of person. They exploit innocent humans for profit, allowing them to be gawked at and harassed by other deplorable people.”

Louis continued on and when he was finished, Harry had a new respect for the amazing man who allowed him to follow him around each Sunday. Each time they met, Harry understood Louis’ heart and mind better. 

Nothing compared to the feeling Harry got when the pair of them performed together.

When they wanted to spend some money or Harry needed a bit extra to make sure he could afford the tram rides, they would set up on the corner outside of Deakin’s Seafood. Louis knew how to play guitar, and together they would sing.

Their voices together were a magic that enticed everyone who heard their harmonizing. They make enough money sometimes for Harry to keep a few coins for his savings fund.

It honestly helped make life easier for Harry, because he no longer had to choose between skipping a meal or saving a little extra for his dream bakery. 

He could actually feel his feelings for Louis continue growing. It was an amazing feeling, and Harry always felt lighter than air when Louis did something that made Harry’s fondness for him grow.

There were instances when Harry had hope that Louis felt the same way. He never talked about girls he fancied, and he chose to dance with Harry when they visited the dance pavilions. 

On Coney, no one batted an eye when they saw people of the same sex interacting in ways that society considered highly inappropriate or sinful. 

It was a place where nationality and sex melted away. People came to the island to have a good time and business owners didn’t mind what happened as long as they continued making money.

-

A Sunday at the end of July changed everything.

Louis met Harry at the tram stop instead of the restaurant as usual. He was always an outgoing person, but Harry could instantly see that something had him more excited than usual. The gleam in Louis’ eyes made Harry think he had something mischievous planned.

The shorter lad threw his arms around his waist in a hug as soon as he was close enough, and Harry soon found out what had him in such a good mood.

“I have a plan for today and before I tell it to you, you have to promise to do it.”

Harry laughed, “Telling you yes before knowing what I’m getting myself into sounds like a risky choice.”

Louis smiled in response and playfully poked one of Harry’s dimples.

“Your smile tells me that you already plan on saying yes. You can’t say know to this face, Harold.”

Harry could feel himself blushing at Louis’ words even if he was joking. 

He was trying to come up with a clever response when Louis spoke again, “No worries, Curly. You would not be the first boy to tell me I’m irresistible. Now, what do you say?”

Harry fish mouthed for a few seconds before he was able to force a weak “Yes.” through his lips.

It may have not been the enthusiastic response Louis was looking for, but he still rewarded Harry with a smile that rivaled the day’s sunshine. 

“Here’s the plan. My mom finished some clothing for a posh client that lives in the city, but the owner isn’t coming to pick the items up until tomorrow. We’re gonna put the clothes on and go rub elbows with the rich at Manhattan Beach for the day.”

As soon as Louis said Manhattan Beach, Harry began cringing.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“May I remind you that you already said yes?”

The boys stared at each other until Harry predictably cracked.

“Let it never be said that I don’t keep my word,” Harry reasoned as he followed a rambunctious Louis down the boardwalk.

-

Taking the clothes felt like an elaborate spy mission Harry had read in the dime novels he borrowed from his landlady. 

Louis made sure his siblings were occupied and Jay and Dan were in the restaurant before they quickly put the suits on. 

Luckily, Dan had a spare pair of dress shoes that fit Harry.

When they were gazing at themselves in Jay’s full-length mirror, Harry couldn’t keep his eyes off the man beside him. 

The borrowed suits may not have fit the pair perfectly, but Louis still made the outfit look like it came from a front store window.

By far the best part was the pants. Louis had rolled the trouser legs up, which showed off his dainty ankles. Harry never knew ankles could be attractive. The pants hugged his legs and ran smoothly across his bum.

Harry pulled his eyes up Louis’ body and his eyes met Louis’ in the mirror. A light blush covered Louis’ cheeks, and Harry could feel his own cheeks begin to flush.

“Um…,” Harry mumbled looking for words.

Louis lightly circled his small hand around Harry’s elbow, “It’s alright. I don’t mind.”

It was a moment charged with unresolved tension, but Harry’s panicked mind refused to act on it.

Instead he cleared his throat and pulled his arm away from Louis so he could smooth down his suit jacket.

“I think we’re ready. Let’s show those posh resort goers what we’re made of,” Harry said while avoided Louis’ searching eyes.

“Right,” he replied uncertainly.

Coney was a small island and the walk to Manhattan Beach was short. Harry worried that the awkward moment at Louis’ house would continue, but he should have known better.

After a few minutes of stilted silence while dodging people on the boardwalk, they began acting as if nothing happened and went back to their usual banter. 

Harry was beginning to wonder if suppressing his feelings was healthy. Going by Louis’ state earlier, he had some of the same feelings for Harry. But was risking the easy friendship they had crafted worth it? Harry loved getting away from the bustle of the city by going to Coney and he didn’t know what he would do if he had to stop visiting.

Nerves started coursing through Harry’s body as the Manhattan Beach Hotel and a side entrance gate came into view. Louis’ warnings about the Pinkerton Agents that guarded the resort echoed through his head.

Louis took notice of Harry’s jitters and softly brushed his hand down Harry’s left arm. He gripped Harry’s fingers loosely for a moment before straightening his shoulders in preparation for the Agents.

They had no plan to get into the place other than “We’ll wing it, Haz,” but Louis’ unspoken confidence made Harry feel he could do anything with this golden boy by his side. He kept the ghostly feel of Louis’ hand in mind as he sauntered up to the guards as if he was an entitled man with not a care in the world.

“What can we do for you gentlemen?” a man with shockingly blonde hair asked around the toothpick in his mouth.

It was obvious both men in charge of the entrance were examining Louis and Harry from head to toe, but Louis stared straight into their eyes as he said, “We’ve come for the day’s race.”

Harry had heard Louis joke around with a posh American accent before, but it was nothing compared to when he seriously used it.

The blonde nodded to Harry, “And what about your friend?”

Harry tried not to visibly gulp. He knew their venture wouldn’t work if Harry couldn’t speak for himself.

“I fancy a little betting on the horses with a side of champagne on this lovely day,” he said while trying his best to sound like the aristocratic opera goers he had met in Cheshire as a boy.

To add to their nonchalant charade, Harry examined the nails on his right hand. He hoped it presented him as a man that could care less if he was let in or not. If he was refused entrance. He would take his money somewhere else.

“A Brit and an American, aye? How do you know each other then?” the second guard spoke up.

Without missing a beat Louis replied, “We met while studying at Oxford. While Charles here is visiting I thought I’d show him the best places in New York.”

The man scoffed in response seemingly satisfied with the answer despite how young the pair looked.

“Alright then, sign your names here for me,” the blonde commanded while shoving a clipboard to Harry.

He used the offered pen and neatly signed his name as Charles Taylor along with the other names already written.

Louis signed off with a flourish before handing the sheets back to the man.

Both guards pulled open the gates to allow Harry and Louis access to the grounds and buildings beyond.

Harry and Louis casually strolled through the opening while Louis gave a lazy, “Thanks so much” to the guards.

Once they were around a bend in the path Harry let out a sigh of relief while Louis began giggling.

“That was amazing, Harry! I wasn’t sure you had it in you.”

Harry wasn’t sure he had it in him either. Lying may be considered a sin, but Harry felt proud of himself at the moment. 

“You weren’t so bad yourself,” Harry said with a playful shove at the giggling man beside him.

Louis straightened up and dusted imaginary dust from himself.

“There’s no horseplay among rich gentlemen, Harry. That may have been the hard part, but we can’t fall apart now.”

Harry could tell by the glint in Louis’ eyes that he was joking and being serious about the matter at the same time.

Harry threw his shoulders back to straighten his posture and continued to stride forward without Louis. When Louis was almost even with himself, Harry asked, “And what am I supposed to call you for the day?”

Louis hummed beside him, “I think Richard Smith is a good fit.”

The path meandered on with a surrounding of tall shrubbery and fragrant flowers in bloom. It eventually gave way to a wide opening where Harry and Louis could look at the expanse of the resort in front of them.

To their right loomed the hotel with a cobble path that led to a sandy beach where people were laughing in the frothy waves.

The left side of the property was taken up by a neatly groomed horse track. White tents were setup to shade people from the sun and a betting booth was conveniently set up before the tents.

Louis and Harry turned towards each other at the same moment, “You ready for this, Charles?” Louis asked with a smirk playing on his pink lips.

“After you, Richard,” Harry said while he made a grand gesture with his arm for Louis to lead the way.

With that, they walked into the unknown territory of the rich.

-

To not raise suspicion, Louis and Harry looked at the betting board for a minute and acted as if they were conferring with each other. Louis told the bookie that they wanted to look at the horses before they placed bets on the day’s races.

They then moved into one of the shaded tents and each gratefully took an offered glass of champagne. People who stayed in the hotel shelled out plenty of cash for their stay, but to keep the day goers happy and gambling, the resort offered complimentary champagne and cigars.

Harry quickly learned that he they were not going to have trouble finding people willing to talk to them. As long as you were in their class, rich people were more than willing to speak to you. This is because being rich is a competition. The more extravagant your spending and stories, the better.

As expected, Louis became the star of those assembled.

His confidence attracted people to him like flowers enticed bees. Those gathered were regaled with his outrageous stories and charming personality.

Despite the more subdued tones Harry took on, Louis made sure he was part of the dazzled crowd. 

The majority of Louis’ stories had the phrases “Charles, remember when,” or “My British friend, Charles, is a riot! One time he…” Harry blushed under “Richard’s” praise and the gaze of his listeners.

Of course, the first question they were asked was how they came into their money. Louis, being an American, said his family was new money gained from railroad investments. When the expectant men turned to Harry, he said his British family was old money that came from a long line of lawyers, but Harry was a black sheep in the family who wanted to be a British entrepreneur in America.

The more openings Louis gave Harry to speak, the easier it became for him to interject on his own and even have side conversations without Louis.

Keeping in mind he was essentially an actor with a fake persona, Harry took on the role of Charles Taylor with aplomb. The champagne may have also been a factor.

Louis was happily puffing away at a cigar when Harry offhandedly asked if he wanted to take a look at the horses before betting closed for the day.

The other men and women present began filtering towards the hotel dining room for lunch while Louis coaxed Harry towards the paddocks that held the horses.

Each wooden gate had the name of the horse proudly posted in neatly painted letters. Harry had ridden a few times in his life, but it had been years since he was last this close to the animal.

Harry could feel Louis’ eyes on his back as he lovingly touched the muzzle of a horse named Moonbeam.

“Too bad we can’t spontaneously gamble like these people,” Harry sighed.

“What if I told you I have two dollars we can put down?”

Harry whipped around to instantly protest, but stopped when he saw the fond look on Louis’ face. He took a moment looking at his soft features before carefully speaking, 

“I don’t know where you got the money from, but I could never ask you to do that. Two dollars is more than I make in a day of work. Besides, I know your family also works hard for a living and would not appreciate you gambling with your money.”

“Relax, Curly. It’s money I’ve kept from busking with you. We can easily make it back.”

Louis walked close enough for Harry to smell the cigar smoke that now clung to his clothing. It made Harry wish they were covered by ocean water instead.

To keep his mind focused on the present, Harry turned back to Moonbeam. While he was gathering his thoughts, Louis placed an unsure hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“I want you to have the full Manhattan Beach experience today. The races are going to be boring if we don’t at least bet on one. Please? Let me do this for you, just once.”

Harry resisted the urge to shove his face into the soft fur of the horse he clung to while he reluctantly nodded his head yes. 

Louis gave him a few pats on the shoulder, “Alright, let’s go to the bookie and then get some lunch. Who serves lunch at three in the afternoon? I’m starved.”

It was unfortunate that they were in a place where public affection was frowned on or Harry would have held hands with Louis and swung their arms in glee on their way to the bookie. 

“We have to bet on Moonbeam. We had an obvious connection.”

Louis only snorted in reply, but Harry was satisfied when he asked the bookie to put two dollars on Moonbeam in the third race.

-

Lunch was served in an opulent dining room on the first floor of the hotel. The room looked out over the resort’s beach. Louis told Harry not to worry about the price of his meal, but Harry tried to pick the least expensive sounding item on the menu, which had no prices listed.

Harry ended up picking at Louis’ meal, because his crabcakes looked better than the salad Harry ordered.

It turned out he had needlessly worried about Louis paying for his meal. Louis had made such an impression on everyone that their table almost fought over who got to generously pay their new friends’ bill. Harry could relate to their admiration for Louis.

The party moved to the grandstands by the racetrack where champagne once more flowed among the guests. 

Before long, the horses and their jockeys were lined up for the afternoon’s first race. The crowd grew silent in anticipation of the start. As soon as a pistol was shot to signal the horses to go, the crowd was on their feet screaming for their horse to win.

This was not the race they had bet on, but Harry still got swept up in the crowd’s enthusiasm. He chose to cheer for horse number five, because it had lovely fuchsia gear.

Even while he was cheering, Harry wondered at the absurdity of the sport. It was a huge pastime in England, but he had never understood the point of it. Why risk the lives of jockeys and innocent horses for amusement and money?

Curses erupted around him as people realized their horse had not won. Louis seemed like one of the only people not surprised when the winners came back from the claim table with little money in winnings. 

The second race went differently. Most of the spectators had bet on the first run and chose to babble among themselves for the next races. It was just as exciting for Harry though who had never witnessed anything like it. He was afraid for a moment that his excitement was out of place, but the smile Louis had in reaction to Harry’s questioning gaze instantly had him shouting without a care what anyone thought.

Then it was finally time for their race. Harry spotted Moonbeam wearing the number twenty-eight and he about started yelling before there was anything to cheer about.

Louis’ hand on his forearm brought him back to his station as a rich gentleman. 

“Haz, there’s something I need to tell you before the race starts,” Louis all but whispered.

Harry ducked his head closer to Louis so he could hear him more clearly.

“The races are rigged,” Louis said.

“What?”

Harry must have heard wrong. There is no way Louis would have bet two dollars on a horse if he knew the race was rigged.

“The races are rigged,” Louis calmly repeated.

Harry felt himself go cold with the information. Before he had time to properly get upset, Louis started speaking again, 

“The managers of the track look at what horse has the most bets before the race and let the jockeys know which one is meant to win. That way the payout for winners is small and the track profits.”

Slowly Harry felt his mouth open in shock. Louis tugged on the sleeve of his suit jacket,

“It's okay, Harry. I knew before I placed the bet. Everyone who lives on Coney knows it. I wanted you to have a carefree day where the only thing you had to worry about was getting into this place.”

With a tight grip on one of Louis’ hands, Harry told him, “You’re what makes me have a carefree day, not rubbing elbows with rich Americans.”

The worried look on Louis’ face was wiped away when the starting gun went off. Both of their heads whipped around in order to see the horses thundering around the course. 

Without a word, their eyes sought Moonbeam. All of Harry’s anger towards Louis was replaced by joy as he watched the horse keep a steady pace in the middle of the pack.

Moonbeam began pulling ahead as the animals rounded the first bend in the track. 

Louis jumped up and down with Harry while they both shouted twenty-eight and Moonbeam together.

The slight jockey riding Moonbeam urged the horse on and they finally pulled ahead in the last straightaway.

Next to Harry, Louis grew quiet. The winning horse crossed the finish line with an excited fistpump from Harry.

“L- Richard! Richard, we won!” Harry shouted.

Louis squeezed the arm Harry had unconsciously thrown around him in excitement.

“Calm down, Charles. It's not like it's going to add much to your wallet. Sorry about him. His family won't let him go to the races in England,” Louis half-heartedly apologized to the curious looks turned their way. 

Harry practically dragged Louis down the small stands to the collection booth.

An unimpressed looking man sat behind the counter. Louis passed their betting receipt to him for examination. 

His eyes grew wide for a moment, but then he schooled his features. 

“Give me one moment, gentlemen.”

The man disappeared from view. Louis began tapping his fingers against the wooden counter once it was obvious the man was going to take more than a moment.

Harry could tell his impatient friend was seconds away from knocking on the booth’s partition when mister unimpressed arrived with company.

“Thank you for your patience. If you would be so kind as to wait a moment more, you will have your money soon. In the meantime, here is your ticket listing your winnings.”

With that, the stranger quickly closed the partition and the original man retook his seat.

Louis had a tight grip on the ticket handed to him. Evidently he was not going to willingly let it go, so Harry had to almost rip it from his fingertips.

As Harry gazed at the small slip, he realized Louis’ tight grip was from shock. Cleanly printed on the smooth paper was $-----. No one else had bet on Moonbeam.  
“Lou…” Harry trailed off.

“I know,” came a faint reply.

Both were still in shock even when yet another official looking track worker carefully presented Louis and Harry with - neat stacks of one hundred dollar bills. He shook both of their hands and then disappeared as quickly as he arrived.

Harry never dreamed of having so much money in his hands, yet here he was without having to lift a finger to earn it.

“Is this really happening?”

Harry didn’t realize he had said that out loud until Louis answered him.

“It really is. Now let’s get out of here before they decide to take it back.”

Following Louis’ example, Harry quickly stuffed the stacks in his hands into the inner pockets of his suit jacket. Apparently their charade was done, because they didn’t bother saying goodbye to the people they had befriended.

It was obvious Louis was shaken up by the turn of events, but he hid it well during their parade past the spectators and the guards at the gates. No one noticed two men calling it a day and heading home with their winnings.

Harry didn’t dare to speak until they were far away from Manhattan Beach and its listening ears.

“What are we going to do with all this money?”

“You’re going to give me my two dollars back and keep the rest.”

Harry pulled Louis to a stop in the middle of the bustling boardwalk. The sun was casting shadows around Louis’ brooding face, but Harry had no time to admire such romantic details.

He held both of Louis’ hands in his larger ones as he said, “I can’t take all of this money. We should split it. I’m not the only one that would benefit from it.”

“Listen to me, Harry. I want you to take the money. Yes, my family could also do a lot with the cash, but my family has security with a restaurant that stay fairly busy even in the low season. On the other hand, you and Gemma have factory jobs that could change at any second. Use the money for bakery supplies and for a down payment on the vacant shop you keep talking about. I don’t know what went wrong with the betting system, but it happened for a reason. This is your chance to start your business years before you expected to. Besides, you are the one who had a connection with Moonbeam.”

What started out as a serious speech ended with a joking smile. While talking and even as they continued staring at each other Louis had gently rubbed his thumb along the outside of Harry’s own thumb. It was affectionate gestures like that that communicated through Louis’ seriousness that everything would be alright. 

Louis didn’t require an equally long speech from Harry. All he needed was his shy nod of consent for the matter to end.

-

Just like when they stole out of the house that morning, Harry and Louis were tasked with sneaking back in. There was no way Jay had not noticed the suits missing during the day, but Harry was more than willing to let Louis deal with that problem on his own.

For the time being, they quickly changed back into their regular clothes Louis had stashed away and return the borrowed threads to their correct places. 

It wasn’t until they were almost outside the tram stop that Louis noticed the top of Harry’s shirt was buttoned incorrectly.

“Really, Harry, you can’t even button your own shirt without help?” Louis teased after stopping them under a street lantern that cast the sidewalk in a buttery yellow light.

Louis’ quick fingers deftly undid the buttons and then fastened them back together correctly. His hands continued lightly resting almost on Harry’s throat after Louis had finished the top button. Harry watched the lovely length of Louis’ eyelashes as he shut his eyes and let out a sigh.

“I hope you know I care about you and am not trying to play the hero by telling you to keep the money,” Louis said.

Harry could feel the heavy weight of the money in his pockets. It felt like he was holding his own destiny.

“I never thought that, Lou. We’re in the same boat. I want you to not have to worry about money for your family and you want me to not worry about mine. And you know I care for you as much as you do for me.”

Louis slid his hands down Harry’s side and loosely held his hands. It was amazing how well the two of them fit together. They were like complimentary puzzle pieces.

There was a silent acknowledgement in the air. It was agreed they both cared for each other beyond the words they could say. Louis began lifting his chin up while Harry lowered his towards the beautiful person practically standing against him. 

Without hesitation, their mouths met in perfect unison. It was sweet and gentle. The result of weeks of admiring looks and affectionate touches.

Harry felt like all the recent events in his life were leading up to this moment. He had to grow up because of hardships in the last year, but now Harry was sure life was pushing him towards Louis. They were meant to meet no matter the circumstances.

Louis tangled his hands in Harry’s curls and Harry placed his hands at the small of Louis’ back. It took a combination of Harry fighting the urge to put his hands lower and the teasing feel of Louis’ tongue against his bottom lip for Harry to pull away. Instantly, Louis looked disappointed. 

Harry caressed his cheek in reassurance, “I was almost convinced I was the only one with feelings beyond friendship.”

“I think my feelings started out beyond friendship as soon as you ran into me on the boardwalk,” Louis smiled.

The whistle on the waiting tram sounded as a warning to dawdling passengers. 

“Your carriage awaits,” Louis joked besides the frown his lips were forming.

Harry playfully forced his face back into a smile, “There are no frowns allowed here. You know I’ll be back next Sunday.”

Louis nodded his head, but Harry could see in his eyes that he was sad by the fact that he would not see Harry for another week.

“Until next time,” Louis said.

Harry gave him one last chaste kiss before giddily running up the stairs of the station. He looked back once more and saw the man silhouette of the person he most adored outlined under the lamp light.

-

Luckily, Gemma was still awake writing in her journal when Harry arrived at the boarding house. She looked up when Harry waltzed into their room. It had been almost an hour since he had left Louis, but Harry still felt like his feet weren’t touching the ground.

“What has you in such a mood tonight? You’ve been more relaxed and happy this summer. It makes me glad seeing you starting to accept our life here.”

Harry bounced onto Gemma’s bed and felt his new fortune crinkle in his pockets.

“I have something to share with you, Gem.”

“Are you finally going to tell me about what you get up to every Sunday?”

Harry gave his sister a sheepish smile.

“I met someone when I went to Coney Island. Whenever I’m gone it’s because I’m going to see him.”

Gemma raised an eyebrow, “Him? Now it all makes sense.”

“Anyway,” Harry chose to ignore her knowing look.

“The reason I refused to go out when we moved here is because I’ve been saving as much money as I can. I want to open a bakery where we can comfortably work and live outside factory life. Imagine it for a moment! We can use all of mom’s recipes.”

“Oh, Harry. You should have told me. I would have helped you save, no questions asked. Instead I’ve been running about town like an irresponsible older sibling.”

“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you. I wanted you to stop fretting over me and enjoy New York. The bakery isn’t your dream. I felt it was my place to handle it.”

“I still wish you had confided in me,” Gemma mumbled.

“You won’t have to spend any time trying to help me. I have enough money to get started!”

“How!” It was more of an exclamation than a question.

“There’s no way you have saved that much money. What have you gotten yourself into, Harry?”

“Calm down, Gems. I may have placed a bet on a horse today and won a bit of money.”

“Enough money to start a business is not a bit of money, Harry. How much of your savings did you gamble away?”

Harry put a placating hand on Gemma’s shoulder.

“It took only two dollars. I didn’t use any of my savings, you know I’m smarter than that. You may not be happy with it right now, but you’re going to be out of that awful factory soon because of this money.”

“I’m fine with it as long as you’re safe and committed to the investment you’re about to make. And I expect you to introduce me to this man who obviously has you wrapped around your finger.”

Harry gave his meddling sister a playful scowl before giving her a tight hug.

“Thanks, Gems. I knew you would understand.

-

The drudgery of work at the factory seemed to slowly drag by for Harry that week. Despite the presence of Niall and Liam, Harry could not shake his excitement about returning to Louis. Their kiss replayed over and over in his mind and he swore he could still feel Louis’ lips on his.

Harry was also concerned about the amount of money currently hidden in his boarding room. He had found time to make an appointment with the bank selling the building he wanted to purchase and they were set to meet the following Tuesday morning. Harry would have to suffer getting only a half-day of pay for missing the morning, but he could not have care less about skipping.

Everything was falling into place. Harry was so caught up in the completion of his goals that he spent his snatches of free time imagining being able to spend more time with Louis. He could visit Coney Island whenever he wanted. Maybe Louis could even visit him in the city.

A contented sigh escaped his lips as the closing bell rang and pulled him back to reality and the cutting board in front of him. Today he would start scouting out bakery equipment he could buy, and tomorrow he would finally be back with Louis.

-

Harry was in such a good mood when he stepped off the Coney Island tram the next day that he was mindlessly whistling a happy tune.

When he didn’t spot Louis waiting in the crowd, he continued on his way to his family’s restaurant. He easily pushed the front door open and entered the restaurant, which was full with the lunch crowd. Jay was standing at the counter.

“Is Louis around?”

It was when Jay looked at Harry that his carefree attitude began fading. Louis’ mom had a crease of worry between her eyes that he had never seen before.

“He’s inside the house, love. No one else is home, so you can let yourself in.”

With a quick thank you Harry headed around the building and into the Deakin’s home. All of the lamps were extinguished, which Harry found weird since Louis was there. The only light that lit up the living room came from the sun shining through the windows on the back of the house.

Usually the house was a hive of noise and activity, but today it was eerily quiet. Harry squinted in the low light and saw a vaguely human shaped blob laying on the couch.

Harry gasped once he was close enough to see his Louis’ face. He had been sleeping, but woke up with a start when he heard Harry.

“Jesus, Haz. You almost sent me to my grave.”

“I almost sent you to your grave!? What happened to your face!”

Panic was trying to overwhelm Harry’s other emotions at the sight before him. Louis’ face was a mottled colors of purple, blue, and yellow. His right eye was swollen shut and his lower lip was split. There was even a neat row of stitches across his left cheek.

“It’s nothing just got roughed up a bit,” Louis deflected.

Harry made room for himself on the edge of the couch cushions.

“Have you seen yourself? You got roughed up more than a bit. I can already tell you’re trying to hide the truth, so you better tell me what happened the first time you tell the story.

Louis let out a defeated sigh that turned into a groan as he put his hand over his ribs.

“Are you okay? Do you need me to get your mom?” Harry asked.

He was weakly waved off, “I already have a legion of sisters and a mother hovering around me. I don’t need your clucking too.”

At the determined scowl on Harry’s face, Louis seemed to know he could not stop Harry from joining the people already tasked with caring for him.

“Help me sit up, yeah?”

Harry eagerly and gingerly helped Louis prop himself up against the arm of the couch with his legs still spread in front of him. Harry could no longer resist the urge to touch Louis and make sure he wasn’t as fragile as he looked. Louis’ hair was soft where Harry ran his fingers through it.

As Louis began speaking, Harry continued stroking his Harry as a way to ground himself.

“Friday evening I was coming home from a delivery for my mom when I was jumped. They dragged me into an ally and you know the cops turned the other way, because they’re all paid off ‘round here. The track figured who I was and that we’re not as rich as we claimed. I told them I didn't have the money and they let me know the what they were doing was a gift from their bosses.”

“I managed to make it back here before passing out. Mom has nursing experience, so she wrapped my ribs and stitched my cheek.”

Harry chewed on his lip trying to stop his tears from welling over. No one deserved a beating like the one Louis received. 

“Why do they want the money back? We won it fairly. It's not our fault they messed their own scam up,” Harry raged.

Practically all Louis had done since Harry’s arrival was sigh, but he did so again before pulling Harry's restless hand out of his hair. 

“They aren't of the same mindset. To them, we robbed them. Add the fact that we weren't rich visitors with friends and legal help in high places and they believe the money rightfully belongs to them. But listen to me. We’re not giving the money back. They figured me out, because I'm a local. If you keep a low profile for a bit, they'll stop searching. I'll figure out a way to take care of it.”

He shook his head no at Louis’ words.

“You could always leave here! It would be hard for them to track us down in the city. Move in with Gemma and me at the bakery!”

Louis gave him a sad smile, “I can’t do that, love. If they know who I am, they know who my family is. They won't stop until their money is returned. We just need to figure out a way to outsmart them.”

Try as he might, Harry couldn't figure a way out of their situation. The obvious solution was to return the money. It was not a fight Harry was willing to have with Louis in his current state, but he knew he needed to make a decision before the hired agents came around again.

“Promise you won't do anything without talking to me first,” Louis pleaded. 

“Only if you promise me the same.”

Louis kissed the back of Harry’s hand.

“I'll go make us some tea then,” Harry needed to keep busy or else he'd continue fretting over Louis’ injuries. 

“One of the many perks of having a British beau.”

They hadn't spoken about how their friendship was progressing into an illegal courtship, but both knew they were on the same page and were willing to tread carefully if it meant they could see where their relationship went. 

Harry found tea in a kitchen cupboard and quickly return to Louis. All of their previous Sundays were spent exploring Coney Island, but Harry was content sitting with his boy while talking the day away.

-

The first half of the week following Louis’ beating, Harry spent most of his time debating if he should keep the money or not. His future was not as set as he thought merely a week ago, which led him to skip the appointment set at the bank. 

By Thursday night, Harry had torn his fingers bloody from chewing at his hangnails. 

Gemma, being the observant older sister she is, noticed that his bad habit only happened when Harry was stressed. 

“Mind telling me what's got you freaking out?”

Harry had experienced these situations before and he knew Gemma would keep asking him until he told her. He never had been very good at keeping secrets.

“I have to return the money I won from the horse race.” 

Saying it out loud was like ripping off a plaster. Harry knew his life was connected to Gemma’s. Giving the money back would not only affect him and Louis.

“Let me make sure I heard you right. You have to give back the money?”

“Unfortunately.”

The great thing about having Gemma for a sister was that she was not quick to judge or get angry. 

“Well, now you have to tell me why that is.”

“We may have lied about who we were to get into the track. Turns out the owners are not okay with poor people winning their money, and the reason I know that is because they gave Louis a beating.”

“Is he okay?” 

“Yeah. It's going to take a while for him to heal, but knowing him he's already up and running circle around the island.”

“What's the problem with giving the money back then?” 

By this point, Gemma was confused.

“Louis made me promise to keep the money while he figured out a way to make the racetrack bosses stop.” 

“This man means a lot to you, right?” 

“He's become one of the most important parts of my life.” 

“I think you have your answer then,” was Gemma’s simple reply. 

-

Saturday’s half-day of work ended and Harry practically sprinted to the team station down the road. While working that day, he had been hyper aware of the money in his pocket. He hoped today was the last day he would physically feel its burden. 

His legs bounced up and down with anxiety for the duration of the ride to Coney Island.

Since Louis wasn't expected him until the next day, it was easy to sneak past the restaurant. Lottie was the one outside talking with potential customers. Harry made sure the girl was talking to potential customers instead of scouting out the crowd before walking by.

The thought of Louis finding out what Harry was doing before he completed the task was still pressing on his mind by the time he was at Manhattan Beach. This time, Harry walked straight up to the guards at the front entrance. 

Immediately, the men prepared to turn him down. Harry’s shabby clothing screamed the opposite of posh, and they were ready for any trouble he might start. 

“We don't cater to the likes of you here,” one of them growled. 

“I'm not trying to get in. Tell whoever your boss is that I'm a friend of Louis Tomlinson’s and I have something they want back.”

The man’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion while his companion had a look of recognition at the mention of Louis’ name. 

“Is that the kid who got a little talkin’ to last week?” He asked. 

Harry would have loved nothing better than to give a tongue lashing about the aforementioned ‘talking to,” but he was here for one task. There was no point in causing more problems when he had firm plans to never step near the establishment or gambling again. 

“That's the one,” was Harry’s frosty reply. 

“Watch him while I fetch Tom.”

For the next five minutes, Harry was left in an awkward silence with the remaining guard.

Harry was seconds away from breaking out in a sweat from trying not to bounce from foot to foot, which would have been a dead giveaway for how nervous he was.

Tom walked towards the gate with his security employee trailing behind him. 

Once he was close enough, Harry realized Tom was the man who payed Louis and Harry their winnings. 

“You've brought something for me,” he hissed the statement.

There was a remarkable difference between their polite first encounter and the disdain filled one currently taking place. 

People who take society’s class system to heart and treat others as less than human deserve all of the bad karma the world has to offer. However, Harry's mum had always said bad people would eventually get what was coming and good people should stay well above their low level.

Harry dug the stacks of cash spread through the various pockets of his pants and summer coat. With gritted teeth, he handed all of them to Tom. 

“If I find a single bill missing, I will personally find you and shake it from you. Now get off my property you lousy thief,” he sneered.

In response, Harry gave a mock salute before neatly turning to walk off. 

Now that he had survived giving the money back, it was time to face something that may be more difficult: telling Louis he had broken their promise.

-

The summer sun was slowly edging its way towards the horizon when Harry arrived at the Deakin’s.

He was brooding outside the shop door when Lottie appeared ready to bring in the dinner crowd.

“What are you doing standing on the sidewalk on a Saturday? Have you forgotten the day?”

Harry’s face scrunched with fondness for Louis’ younger sister.

“I actually had an errand I needed to take care of on the island. Thought I'd stop by since I was here.”

Lottie gave him an impassive look. They both knew no errand would have brought Harry this far out of the city. 

“Louis is sitting inside the restaurant. Mom hasn't let him leave her sight all day, so he might fly over the moon when he sees you.”

“Thanks, Lots,” he said on his way through the front door. 

As Lottie predicted, Louis’ face immediately beamed when he saw Harry. He slid out of the booth he was occupying and wrapped Harry in a tight embrace. 

“It's not a Sunday, but you're here! Don't get me wrong. I'm excited to see you. Why are you here though?” 

Harry couldn't resist capturing Louis in one more hug before speaking. 

“I thought I'd make the most of my half-day by surprising my American beau,” Harry practically sang. 

Talking to Louis about what he did was going to be like giving his confession at a jailhouse, but Harry couldn't resist the affection he got to share with Louis. Now that he was sure Louis shared his feelings, there was no denying their connection. Harry lightly traced Louis’ cheekbones where the bruises were beginning to fade.

“Think we can go outside and talk for a moment?”

Louis glanced around the room trying to locate his mom. 

“Looks like Mom has her hands full right now. I don't think she'd mind me leaving for a bit if it’s with you.”

A cool breeze was blowing off the ocean when they got outside. Harry spotted an empty bench, which he led Louis to. He looked at the waves beating the Island shore, contemplating what he should say. Louis sat silently holding Harry’s hand, patiently waiting for his thoughtful companion to start.

“You know how we promised to talk with each other before doing something with the money?”

“Of course. What have you thought of?”

“I decided to give the money back.” 

“And I told you we’re not doing that,” Louis retorted.

“Well, you see, I already did it.”

Louis gave him a blank look, “Already did what?”

“The reason I’m on Coney today is because I went back to the resort and handed over the winnings.”

“I’m sorry, there must be something wrong with my ears. Did you just tell me you took the money back?”

Suddenly Louis pulled his hand away.

“I told you I’d figure out a way for you to keep it. There’s no way we can get it back! I thought you trusted me?”

The hurt look on Louis’ face cut Harry to the core. 

“Of course I trust you…”

“Then why did you do it? You didn’t even tell me first!” Louis cut him off.

“You said yourself they wouldn’t stop until they got what they wanted. What would you do if they did something to your family? The both of us could never forgive ourselves if that happened and you know it.”

The angry expression on Louis’ face began to fade when Harry brought up his family.

“I still don’t understand. What about your bakery? You and Gemma would be done with factory work forever.”

“Louis, I don't care about money. I have a steady job and a roof over my head, which is more than a lot of immigrants here have. What I do care about is you. Yes, giving the money back means I’ll continue working, but I love you. I’d work the rest of my life if that meant keeping this from happening again.” 

Harry watched as Louis’ eyes began tearing up.

“It’s going to be okay, I promise,” Harry tried soothing him.

“Did you mean what you said?”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Mean what?”

“You love me?”

Although Harry had failed to realize those words left his lips, he laughed. They felt like the most natural description of what Louis meant to him. Leaving England behind felt like losing a home, but meeting Louis felt like building a new one.

“I love you,” Harry repeated.

Louis rubbed the tears from his eyes and took a deep breath.

“I love you, too.”

Harry’s mouth dropped open into an o. It was one thing for him to say he loved Louis. It was another for him to reciprocate those feelings. Seeing Louis laugh at the look on his face broke through Harry’s doubts.

Of course Louis loved him too, how could he doubt it? The look on his face was one of pure joy. After showing him around the first day, Louis never had to speak with Harry again. Yet he spent almost every Sunday since they met getting to know and understand him.

The young men on the bench were surrounded by the noise and smells of Coney Island, but the bustle faded while they kissed under the sunset. They were in their own bubble, and no one could break it or them.

-

December 1905

Mouthwatering flavors floated around the clean shopfront. The room was loud with voices, but everyone waited politely until their turn at the front counter.

Gemma quickly bagged and rung up items from the display counter for the shop’s eager customers.

She was moments away from apologizing to Mrs. Black for being out of danishes when Harry swung through the kitchen door with a fresh tray.

He smiled at the packed foyer before setting his tray down to help Gemma with the evening rush. Once they were gone, the store could finally be closed for the day.

An hour later, Harry shuttered the windows and hung the closed sign with a happy sigh. He shooed Gemma off to her husband and apartment down the street while telling her he could handle the cleanup on his own.

Harry was almost done wrapping up what would be taken to the food kitchen in the morning when the bell above the door sounded. He heard the lock turn before the person made their way to the cash register.

A pair of tan arms patiently leaned against the counter while Harry finished his task.

When he looked up, he was greeted by a familiar pair of sparkling blue eyes. A smile slowly formed on Louis’ face, and he embraced Harry across the counter before Harry could return the besotted look.

“Too bad Jack was sick on one of the busiest days of the year,” Louis said as he pulled back.

“His mum said he should be well enough to start deliveries again after the New Year holiday,” Harry replied.

“I’ll finish up down here while you go up and start dinner?”

Harry gave Louis a grateful peck on the lips before bouncing through the kitchen door and up the stairs to the flat about the shop.

Before long, Louis joined him upstairs and the pair comfortably finished supper and sat at the small dining table to eat.

They told each other about their days and discussed their plans to visit Louis’ family on Coney Island the following day.

It was a typical evening for them, but Harry felt he couldn’t be happier. As Harry laid snugly against a sleeping Louis in their bed that night, he remembered how five years ago he spent New Year’s Eve miserable and on a boat to a new country.

Now, he would cross the ocean a million times if it meant he would mean keeping his life’s current position.

It took the combined effort of Harry, Gemma, and Louis to save money to purchase Harry’s bakery plus everything needed to furnish it and the flat, but his business had been open for almost a year. Business was better than Harry thought it would start as and Louis had helped him figure that he’d pay his loan from the bank off in three more years.

Louis snuffled against him and blearily opened his eyes, “Why’re you awake? Something wrong?”

Harry laid a soft kiss on his forehead, “No, just thinking about how grateful I am for having this life and sharing it with you.”

He felt Louis smile against his bare chest, “Stop being a sap and go to sleep.”

“I love you,” Harry whispered.

“I love you, too,” Louis softly echoed.

Harry fell asleep unsure of what his future held, but with the knowledge that change was not always a bad thing. After all, it led him to the love of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> For those curious what the Steeplechase ride was like: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IRiwXzgCaVQ
> 
> Hands down, this is my favorite fic I have written. Please leave feedback! It is what encourages me to continue writing! 
> 
> Follow me on [tumblr](https://musketrois.tumblr.com/).


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